"¿Estás lista para el viaje de campamento, bragas?" comes the squeaky voice of Felicia, the little girl wearing me. I don't know what she's saying, but I know she has to be talking to me based on the Spanish word 'bragas' always coming up when she addresses me directly. Sure, my name used to be Brad, but that name is a foreign concept to my 6-year-old owner, despite the fact that she was once my own mother.
That genie really pulled a fast one on us. After we found the red and black lamp gathering dust in the attic, he popped out while I was trying to clean it off. He offered me and Mom one wish each, with the chance to specify what those wishes would entail. Mom wanted to be young again, ideally from a new perspective, while I wanted to be closer to her. I had just turned 17, and our relationship had been slowly drifting apart for years. We simply didn't have much in common, the interests of a 17-year-old boy and 45-year-old woman worlds apart.
One of us got exactly what we wanted, as Mom transformed from 45-year-old Belle into 6-year-old Felicia, finding herself taking residence with a small family in a small town in Mexico. She didn't speak a word of English, instead being fluent in her newly native Spanish. I still wish that linguistic knowledge had passed onto me as well, as it would make my new existence at least a little more bearable.
Having woken up in darkness, I could feel heat radiating from beneath me - or was it inside me? There was some kind of fabric surrounding me from all angles, blocking me from the outside world.
"¡Oh, Dios mío, me convertí en una niña pequeña!" came a little girl's voice from above me in rapid Spanish. "¿Y estoy hablando español? ¡Debo ser mexicana ahora! No puedo esperar para conocer a mi nueva familia. ¡Esto es tan emocionante!" I felt movement from inside and out as the world around me started bouncing. What was going on? "Y si lo que pienso es correcto..." Suddenly, the fabric surrounding me was pulled away, allowing light to stream in. I could now see that the fabric was, in fact, the crotch area of a lime green pair of girls' leggings. My vision was locked straight forward, which immediately told me exactly what I had turned into. "¡Debes haberte convertido en mis bragas! ¡Qué bonito color rosa resultaste ser tú también! Ojalá recordara cuál era tu nombre... Oh, bueno, Supongo que tu nombre es 'bragas' ahora." With that matter-of-fact-sounding statement, the leggings were unceremoniously let go of, snapping back against the girl's waist and blocking out my vision again. What was she saying? Who was she? And please tell me that the panties I had obviously turned into weren't pink...
The rest of the day was a blur of darkness, motion and rapid Spanish that I couldn't understand. The girl's sweat started soaking into my fabric as she played around outside on the hot summer day, and I tried to occupy my mind with anything other than the fact I was wrapped around a small girl's waist, keeping her privates hidden and protected while my back stretched across her buttocks. Not only that, but I was wondering what happened to my mother. She had made a wish as well, right? She wanted to be younger, with a new perspective -
Oh. What was the probability that the little Hispanic girl wearing me, chatting with other kids her age in rapid undecipherable Spanish, was actually my Mom? It suddenly seemed guaranteed, seeing as I wished to be closer to her without specifying what I meant. At least it made me feel SLIGHTLY less creepy about my new position. Not by much, though.
Hours later, the girl that used to be my mother entered a cooler area, probably having come back inside her new home after a long day playing outside with her new peers. Her movement didn't seem to slow down for a while, but I got to experience the discomfort of being sat on as she ate supper. Having my backside sandwiched between the hard surface of the dining room chair and the admittedly soft bottom of my wearer wasn't pleasant, but at least I was mostly at rest. Mostly, because the girl seemed rather restless, so she kept fidgeting in her seat, disturbing my fabric with every little movement she made.
More hours of constant movement later, the leggings covering me were finally slipped off. The girl started walking, introducing me to the action while I could actually see. The room around me was almost painfully pink, clearly belonging to an incredibly girly child. Most importantly, she came to a rest in front of a full-body mirror attached to her closet door.
My owner and wearer was a Hispanic child no older than 6, her dark brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail to combat the summer heat. I saw the lime green leggings laying on the floor behind her, leaving her clad in a white tank top, as well as her underwear. Sure enough, at my eye level, wrapped tightly around the little girl's waist, was a bright pink pair of panties that happened to contain the consciousness of a 17-year-old white kid from Idaho. I looked positively tiny, even compared to the tiny girl who I would now have to consider to be my owner.
"Pues bragas, lo siento si tu día no fue tan divertido como el mío," the girl said while looking down at her underwear. There was that 'bragas' word again. That must mean panties, meaning the Spanish word for my new form was embarrassingly similar to my old name. "¡Creo que es hora de una reintroducción! Mi nombre es Felicia, ya partir de ahora seré tu dueña. Por lo menos hasta que me haga demasiado grande para ti. Sé que solías ser mi hijo, pero probablemente no debería tratarte de manera diferente a otras bragas en mi cajón. ¡Disfruta de la noche debajo de mi camisón, bragas!"
As she left the mirror behind after her one-sided conversation that I couldn't understand, I tried to come to terms with what little information I was able to discern from her words. I definitely heard the name Felicia, so I finally knew my owner's name. She clearly knew I was there, since she seemed to be talking directly to me, but she certainly didn't know I couldn't understand her. Lastly, it seemed like she had no intention of treating me any differently from any other pair of panties, as the loose fabric of a white nightgown fell in front of my vision. Much of the light disappeared with the click of a switch, and the girl who I once called Mom tucked herself into bed, leaving me in the darkness under her blanket for the rest of the night.
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It's been a few weeks now since I started my existence as a pair of Felicia's panties. Her home was the house owned by her parents, who showered their daughter with love and praise, all in a language I couldn't understand. Mom's new life sure seems to make her happy, having received a brand new start to a brand new life.
I wish I could be happy for her, but she's forgotten to wipe after peeing a couple too many times for me to feel anything other than resentment toward her. Why does she get a fantastic new home and family while I get to deal with her urine, sweat and farts in between dizzying, suffocating rides through the washer and dryer? I now have to call a little girl's underwear drawer my home, no different from the other colorful-but-lifeless pieces of fabric that I share the drawer with. I constantly feel like I'm invading Felicia's privacy, despite the fact that I'm fulfilling the very purpose my new form was designed for.
Even as Felicia cheerfully brushes her teeth above me, having not gotten dressed for the day just yet, I absolutely can't share in her otherwise infectious joy. I won't know what she's getting ready for until it's already happening, but at least I'll be able to see something. She laid out a light pink sundress after putting me on this morning without setting out a pair of shorts to cover me. I can feel the oppressive heat around me, even being inside the house, so it must be hot enough outside that the air conditioning can't quite keep up, so she must be forgoing the shorts so she can keep as cool as possible. Great, more sweat...
Felicia starts speaking to me again while I'm forced to stare at the bathroom cupboard door. "¡No puedo esperar para acampar durante la semana, bragas! Lo siento, vas a gastar la mayor parte dentro de una bolsa de lavandería.. Quiero decir, ahí es donde van las bragas sucias. ¡Nos vemos la próxima semana, supongo!" Still don't know what she's talking about, but I saw a suitcase in her room on the way to the bathroom, and she sure seems excited about something...
English translations:
"Ready for the camping trip, panties?"
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"Oh my gosh, I turned into a little girl!"
"And am I speaking Spanish? I must be Mexican now! I can't wait to meet my new family. This is so exciting!"
"And if what I think is correct..."
"You must have become my panties! What a pretty pink color you turned out to be too! I wish I remembered what your name was... Oh well, I guess your name is 'panties' now."
"Well panties, I'm sorry if your day wasn't as fun as mine."
""I think it's time for a reintroduction! My name is Felicia, and from now on I will be your owner. At least until I get too big for you. I know you used to be my son, but I probably shouldn't treat you any different than other panties in my drawer. Enjoy the night under my nightgown, panties!"
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"Can't wait to camp out for the week, panties! Sorry, you're going to spend most of it inside a laundry bag. I mean, that's where the dirty panties go. See you next week I guess!"
Make a part 2 but she is grown and has her menstrual cycle
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